Day 56, Esfhan, Extended...
Met an Iraqi staying out our hostel, talked about his home situation and the war.
He was very happy that the US had come to Iraqi and got rid of Saddam Hussien and very excited about the elections in Iraqi. Of coarse he was now keen for the US army to leave and he said things were getting better in Iraq.
Day 57, Yazd
The environment is very desert like now and although not the rolling sand dunes one images, it is dusty sand plains with little vegetation and the occasional tumble weed for company.
Rode out to Chakchak an important fire worship and temple Pilgrim site.
Day 58, Yazd
After leaving my friends in Shiraz, I felt a little lonely in Yazd. I have found this can happen when you make friends with some locals it feels great lots of questions and a few jokes and then you have to move on, and to some extent your not ready to just make new friends straight away and you miss the ones you had.
Despite all that the architecture of Yazd is amazing, the buildings are mostly of mud composition and many have tall wind towers that catch the slightest breeze and carry it into the building. The walls are often organic shapes as they are hand crafted and this makes for fascinating alleys and narrow streets with a incredible array of curves and arches and bulges.
Day 59, Shiraz,
A good ride to Shiraz, went through a town with a 4000 year old cypress tree - well I was impressed. Had late lunch picnic with some electrical engineers whom I had just met and on leaving one of them gave we an engraved knife from his home city I had only met him 15 minutes previously.
Day 60, Shiraz,
Had a big wander around town, went to the grave of Harfez famous Iranian poet,felt compelled to buy a book, not sure the poetry translates that well. Went inside a famous Muslim shrine with incredible mirror work on the interior, shouldn't really have been in there as no Muslims are not allowed, but no one questioned me maybe it is the beard!
Later that evening I may have received my divine retribution as I was swindled out of 20 dollars, but a local shark.
Day 61, Perspolis,
Amazing site and the tomb of Darius the great was incredible too. Really a wonder of the ancient world. Must have been truly fantastic in its day, if it hadn't have been for Alexander the great maybe more of it would have remained. Some Iranians are still a little bitter about this..
Stayed the night in the Mosque in the site complex. Got a good shot of the site in moonlight...
Day 62, Sirijan,
Stayed the night outside a Fire station on the street in my tent. The firemen were hilarious.
Day 63, Kerman,
Took some really beautiful mountain roads to arrive at Kerman. Really feel that although southern Iran is largely desert the mountains and landscape are incredible. Desolate, wind swept places but really fantastic to see and to travel through.
In the evening met some young guys who had just finished uni, we hatched a plan to go to the desert the next day, to a place called Kalute (Kalut).
Day 64 Kerman,
An early start, we had two cars, one went to get food for a picnic and we headed across a mountain range towards Kalute, stopped by the police en route but when they saw my lost face they waved us on. Later we stopped and one of the guys opened the boot and proudly pulled out a bottle of Scotch. One of the others turned to me and said this is why we were nervous when they stopped us, i was oblivious to all this.
Later we had a phone call from car 2, obviously no one had warned them of the police and they also had decided to bring a bottle of spirit and they too had been stopped. Unfortunately they found it and in Iran this is when you get worried. Car 2 weren't sure how serious it was weather a bribe would get them out of it or not so we carried on hoping they would join us soon.
Kalut was beautiful, this was something like you would image a desert to be. Large rolling dunes, deep sand and very hot, in fact the second hottest place on the planet after death valley in the states. Unfortunately it was all a little over shadowed by our friends misfortune in the second car.
We stayed a while I decided it would be a good place to have your ashes scattered should the need a rise and then we left. On the way back phone calls came in that everything wasn't alright and that one of the guys Mohammad, the guy I had met first was being kept in over night and would see a judge the next day... all for a small bottle of whisky.
Day 65 Bam,
Next day Mohammad saw the judge paid a fine and was released. Don't think it was fun and probably hurt his pocket more but some day he will have a good stor to tell I guess.
Met some completely insane guy in Mahane, travelling you are susceptible to meeting the strangest people.
I carried on to Bam, the road steadily became worse. As I cam towards Bam I saw a mixture of new breeze block style housing and piles of rubble. This was of coarse the site of a very bad earthquake some 5 years previously.
Stayed at a guesthouse that was in the process of being rebuilt, it had been completely flattened in the disaster and of the 13 guests at the time there were two fatalities. This has obviously deeply effected the owner, one of them had been British and riding an Enfield back to England from India. The bike mangled from the devastation now sat in a corner of the car park out the front, like a very sad memorial to the man.
Day 66 Bam,
The next day one of the the guest house owners friends took we around town and to the site of the famous citadel. This very old mud castle and city had been one of the most special sites in the whole of Iran and from photos I had seen it looked fantastic. Unfortunately the earthquake had destroyed about 80% of it. Once a bustling tourist resort now it looked like an archaeological site. People sifted through the dust, tractors removed wreckage. Rebuilding hand begun, but we joked that it would be our grand children who would one day be able to see the site in its former glory.
My guide had also been a victim of the earth quake, loosing his sister, his uncle and aunt and cousins. There had been 40,000 deaths from the quake, Bam was now only a population of 80,000.
I had never been to a site of a natural disaster as this before and whilst being very depressing, the people around me had persevered and were determined to rebuild better and be stronger.
Day 67 Iran, Pakistan Border
Along ride to the border, and I got there an hour after customs had closed. So I couldn't go through.
I put this down to the police escort that I had received. While most of these had been fairly efficient the last couple were farcical. One escort car pulled up by the side of the road to wait for the next escort car, this is how the system worked. We waited and waited, eventually a saloon pulls up and out hoped a soldier. It seems he had hitched a lift to meet us, he was my escort. He limped over to the bike, he obviously had an injury to his leg, he was unarmed and frankly looked as though he might fall over with the next gust of wind. He looked at the bike and preceded to explain that he would ride on the bike with me. Now if you have seen the bike loaded with my kit at this point you would probably have burst out laughing, I quickly made it clear this was not an option. So after a while the soldier flagged down another car and this fruit seller in a pick up became my escort with the limping unarmed soldier.
I had the same situation a little further on an unarmed guard without transport was supposed to be my escort. This time however no one would even stop for him. So I got off the bike and made out like there was a problem with it and the next car stopped and I had my escort. So i made it to the border intact if a little late.
I ended up camping a 100 meters from he gate in the car park, unescorted.
Day 68 Dalbandin
I was though the border no problem and here i was in Pakistan!
The road was straight from the border to Quetta 600km away. I would not make it by nightfall so I had to break the journey.
The road was very quiet and in places I could see on the horizon to my left Afghanistan. There was an occasdional police check point were I had to sign in.
Day 69 Quetta
Someone described it as a frontier town and that is exactly what I though you could describe it as. OK I haven't been to any before, but the mixture of faces, types of clothes, hats etc. This part of Pakistan is heavily defined by various tribes, Pashtuns, Afghans, Balochs, Sindhi. Its a big difference to Iran but quite exciting.
Actually that evening as I entered the hotel restaurant a very large boom came from outside some distance off, at first everyone including me looked a little nervous then some people were joking because it was rather like a movie, and that I was the culprit.
Day 70 Quetta
Next day I bought the local English paper and was unsurprised to read of a bomb going off in Quetta near the railway station. Someone had fired a rocket propelled grenade at a car, I decided to go down and have a look. There wasn't much to see except for a hole in a metal railing, a bent lamppost and broken glass on the ground.
On my way back I saw several bits of graffiti that were in support of the Taliban, all of a sudden the war on terror seemed to be quite close.
Strangely I wasn't frightened by this or the hype of fear that exists around Pakistan currently. Later I would be though.
I changed some money and later realised I had been fleeced by the money changer, a scam where they count out the correct amount hand it to you, you count it, then they grab it off you again and drop some of it into there lap. So having already been taken for a ride once this trip I headed back to the changing office. When I got there the changer put this hand out all sweet to shake mine and I just started shouting at him, he very quickly changed the expression on his face and puts his hand into his pocket and pulled out the missing currency. Quietly pleased and a little frightened I hastily took what I was owed and went and had a good cup of tea.
Day 71, Jacobabad
So this is were the fun began. I was told by the tourist office to head south east about 300km and then to head back up north east another 300km to get to Multan. When there is a direct road between Quetta and Multan but this is too dangerous apparently. No real reason was given.
I left Quetta taking the safer route, there is an area just north east of Quetta called Zhob and this has recently became a bit of a Taliban stronghold and unfortunately kidnappings and assassinations have become an all too common reality in Pakistan life.
Not long after leaving Quetta, I went through my first police check point and another. At this second he mentioned an escort, which his colleague dismissed.
Later I stopped for lunch, and as I finished a police pick-up pulled up, as i got ready to leave, as policeman came over and asked where I was going. I told him and he explained he was my escort. So of we headed together.
It was the usual thing, of stopping every now and then changing escort vehicles etc.
Eventually we came into Jacobabad. They took me to a hotel and I had hoped they would then leave me there but no.
Two armed police with AK47s stayed with me. They sat on the balcony next to my room keeping watch, they sat in the restaurant and had dinner with me, if I went up to my room, one of them would come too. We went to try and find an Internet and sure enough they came with me. Later they even came and sat in the room with me and watched Bollywood films loudly, until I said I was going to bed.
This must be the side to fame that sucks! For your own protection it felt more like house arrest. No one would come and talk to me as most people in Pakistan are not too keen on the police as most of them are pretty corrupt. Perhaps they were hoping I would pay them to go away!
Day 72, Bahawalpur
The next day I left Jacobabad, I had a police escort to the city limits and then I was free! It was misty in the fields and people were already at work, loading donkey drawn carts, with various crops, the countryside had a timeless feel, this was probably the way things had been done for hundreds of years.
I stopped to take a photo and my friends in blue showed up yet again.
I had been asking local people what the deal with the police escort was and no one could explain it, we were well clear of the North Western Frontier Province, where things really are a bit hairy and we were now well away from Afghanistan. Th Poilce just said it was dangerous, I started to get the oppression they just did because they enjoyed the ride. What could I do. Well I tried to do several things. Firstly I tried to out run them, but unfortunately due to my little bikes lack of power I never got to far. I though I had lost them and then there they would be again. I argued with myself that They couldn't arrest me for trying to escape, because I hadn;t done anything. Later they put me behind the escort so I couldn't out run them.
They would let me stop but as soon as someone realised I was with the police they would back off at a rate of knots. It just felt like I had lost that independent travel that was the beauty of having your own wheels.
By the end of the day I was totally fed up we were now in Punjab, generally regarded as the safest province of Pakistan and here they were still cramping my style.
I stopped and started shouting at them to leave me alone and that the whole thing was ridiculous. While they were still a little startled, I jumped on my bike and sped away. You know what I lost them! Yipee, i made it to a hotel undetected and relaxed. Later I went to reception to ask something and as I entered what you might call the lobby, there on my right was a smiling policeman. Great!
Day 73 Multan
Next morning he was still there, I had already resigned myself to play it by there rules. I obviously wasn't going to escape. They asked me what my plan was and I explained that I wanted to go and see some local sights, unfortunately when the chief security man turned up apparently this wasn't in his programme and I wasn't allowed to go. It wasn't dangerous, it just wasn't convenient for them. So i was escorted on my way to Multan.
When we got to Multan they took me to my requested hotel, getting lost beforehand. I entered and went to reception as I asked if there was a room the police filed in. Surprise, surprise there was no room!
This happened again at the next hotel, except this time, before the owner had seen the police there was room, when they came in all of a sudden there wasn't. At this point I flipped out and suddenly there was room again and finally 10 minutes later the police left. i was alone, finally.
I went up to the city fort and met some Pakistani's, it was great to finally be able to chat to people.
That is what was really frustrating about the experience with the police, it was more to do with the way the way they had dominated my thoughts over the last few days.
Day 74 Multan
Just hung out and tried to get accustomed to Pakistan... WOW what a difference to Iran. It is likely really stepping back in time... The wealth gap here is huge.
I don't really think you can appreciate what it is like to walk down the street here until you have done it for real. Words can not describe it, but I will try...
Take a road, lay it, no markings on it. Now line either side of it with sand and dirt, no pavement. Then add rows of very run down buildings, the type that might be a squat or abandoned property in England. Put an open sewer either side. Add piles of rubbish, plastic, straw, paper, cigarette buts. Then add traffic consisting of rickshaws emitting choking smoke, lots of small motorbikes, very loud consistent honking minibuses and throw in donkey and carts, horse and carts and oxen and carts and the occasional goat on the side of the road and roadkill, usually cats or dogs. Finally add the people lots of them, carrying things, collecting things, dropping things, sometimes peeing into the sewer. Layer the whole picture with a haze of smog and you almost have the picture. Its noisy, smelly but very colourful and it has quite an impact!
Tomorrow to Lahore, so we will see what that's all about...
Monday 24 November 2008
Saturday 8 November 2008
A persian love affair....
Day 41,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
Once out of Tabriz it was relatively pleasent journey upto Ahar the town
before the road climbs more sharply up to Kaleyabar. The landscape thus far
had been barren rock and sand. With greenery mainly confined to the
carefully manicured island strips in towns that prevent traffic from
driving on the opposite side of the road and to the banks of meanding rivers
that occasionally cut through the arid countryside.
Beyond Ahar however as the land rose and the climate became more temperate,
the landscape broke out into fertile pastures and inbetween wooded areas
planted with Walnut trees and orchards.
Rising still further up towards 2000m the route disappeared into a thick
fog, and the air temperature droped quickly, forcing me to stop and tie my
scarf around my face.
I eventually arrived in Kaleybar and the small mountian town was shrouded in
a very low opressive cloud that hid the top of the mountain
and Babak castle. I did what one can only do in this sort of situation and
had a chai!
As with Turkey, Iranian's take sugar with there tea and not milk. Normally
about 3 cubes, but rather than put these in the cup and use a spoon to
dissolve them, they pop the cube into there mouth and drink the tea over it,
thus saving on washing up! Now I tried this but I couldn't get it to work
and alway seemed to end up with a very sugery first mouthful and not much
after. In the tea house come restuarant, there was a group of 6 Iranains at
another table, they were curious to who I was and where I was from as I had
now become accustomed to. They offered me some soup and I ordered a kebab,
there was some discussion over my job and where I was staying. After further
discussion much in Farsi amongst themselves and the restaurant
proprieter, one of the chaps from the table said I must stay with him and
his family that evening as the hotel I wanted to stay in was closed. Ok this
sounded good to me, in the meantime he had also generously paid for my meal
too. We arranged to meet back at 6pm after he finished work.
I filled a few hours knocking about the town, meeting one of the town
photographers and having more chai and a wate pipe. Met some youths who were
fairly pleasent, tried to speak english to me with much difficulty and with
some hysterics from the assembly of friends, always a little disconcerting.
Eventually I returned to the restuarant, which was now shut, but someone
quickly came and opened it. 6pm came and went and after a while the
restaurant propriter and assembled curious colleagues, suggested he wasn't
coming, infact I think they tried to call him. I had been stood up. I wasn't
devastated as he wasn't Claudi Schiffer and I knew something else would
unfold. Eventually after some argument between the gahered locals as to who
would put me up and strangely it seemed I wasn't short of offers, it was
decided I was to stay with the propriter, a young chap called Babak, named
of coarse after the castle. At this stage I didn't really care who I stayed
with provided I had a little warmth and a roof and I gratefully accepted. We
stayed awhile in the restuarant and people came and went and answered the
inevitable rally of questions regarding my name, where I was from etc. At
about 8pm I was taken to his home just behind the restaurant.
It turned out he had three other brothers and one sister. One brother was
married and ran the small shop next door, one helped in the restuarant and
the other was still at school. The sister who seemed to speak Ok english,
but unfotunately stayed fairly hidden away, helped at home and had finished
university.
There home was spacious mainly due to the lack of furniture. I have since
discovered this is fairly typical of traditional homes. The floor was
covered in rugs, that stretch from wall to wall, with some cushions arranged
along the walls near the gas burner, with a TV in one corner on a display
unit. There was a small kitchen and two further spaces curtained off from
the main living room. Some fake flowers and pictures sparsley adourned the
walls, one could almost say it was modernist bungalow, with the odd ethenic
and post modern touch.
I ate with the men and the women ate in the kitchen. This was of coarse done
on the floor using a large sort of picnic sheet. We had already removed our
shoes at the front door, so tucked our socks under the sheet so it became a
sort of table cloth come servette. After dinner using various aids,
including my Point it book, sound effects and some scraps of Farsi in the
lonely planet, i communciated the best i could. We drank much tea, which now
always came with a spoon much to there amusement, nuts, fruit etc. At one
point a small bottle of the infamous home brew appeared but I think that
with the whole family present, I prevented from trying it. It smelt pretty
strong though.
Time went on and I was asked at what time I usually went to sleep. Now this
was tricky because, basically everyone will stay up till you say you would
like to go to sleep. So i said about 11pm, which was overshot by some
protracted discussion. Nearing midnight the bedding came out and the men
headed for one area and the women another. I was directed to a futon style
matress on the floor. I wasn't really sure what the dress code was for bed
so I went with boxers and a T-shirt, everyone else seemed to have some sort
of track suit bottoms, I didn't seem to cause offence though. I think I fell
asleep within minutes of being in bed.
Day 42,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
I woke hoping to head for the castle, unfortunately the weather was still dismally foggy. So i kicked around in the village and then I went with one of the brothers to there garden. The weather was very wet and it felt like a bit of a ridiculous mission. i say mission because the garden was not a back garden but more of an oversize allotment about 5 mins from the town on a mountian side. When we got there, i could hear frenzied dog barking, great I thought so far wild dogs and I haven't got on too well.
The dog came running like a shot out of a gun towards me teeth blazing, I had been given the backpack to carry which contained some chicken we planned to barbeque, so the dog saw me as a long awaited meal!
Thankfully Babak had some control over the beast and at the last moment steered him away from my vunerable (juicy looking) leg. the dog I found out was wild and had been found on the mountain and recieved food from the family, some what sporadically I guessed and in turn it acted as a guard dog over there garden. It was pretty good at this as it demonstrated noty only to me but to a passing sheperd scaring the living daylight out of the poor man and almost taking his arm off. I have experienced this else where and it seems to be a fairly common method of keeping intruders out. Unfortunately we couldn't got to the main garden as the river one must cross to get there had swelled under the rainfall so we had to do with there other orchard. my host set about lighting a fire to cook the chicken, now everything was pretty wet and at this stage I was getting a little frustrated being sat in a wet muddy ground next to a beast (the dog) that was plainly hungrier than i was. Eventually some petrol appeared from somewhere and my friends fire lighting skills came out. The petrol I didn't mind to much but when also tried to ignite the collected wood with a plastic crate he had found, i did step in and suggest that perhaps if we planned on consuming the cooked goods I would prefer them not to be tinged with plastic fumes. In the end the open fire kebabs we cooked were great and the dog got his share.
When we returned to the house the father of the family had returned from Tabriz along with his brother and through broken english the conversation tunred to politics.
Iranians are intruged to know what the English people think about Iran and why the goverment has a problem with Iran. I gently explained that bar the nuclear issue we do not hear a great deal of Iran in our press. Interestingly the family explained that like the people I had met in Tabriz, they felt more connected to Azerbaijan than Iran. In fact they were rightly upset with the current goverment, who had last year banned an annual festival that took place at Babak castle that many Azari (people of the region) went to. The festival was a celebration of Babak an anciet freeman who resided in the castle when the region had much more power. The festival consisted of people whereing local dress, drinking (alcohol) and general merriment. The local area was rightly very upset about this. The goverments reason, being that they felt it was breeding a desire for autonomy, and they strictly enforced the ban with a massive police presence on the day and time in jail for anyone who wouldn't abide by this. For me this was one of the first indication of how parnoid the Iran state is... perhaps rightly so.
That night we had a huge family meal and later I went hunting with the boys of the family. We didn't see a thing, i was jokingly blamed... I suggested they cam to England as there are plenty of Rabbits...
OK TIME TO BE BRIEF AGAIN
Day 43,
Sara'eyn,
Bit of dump, Iranian tourist resort... hot spring meant to cure anything from baldness to MS. So went for a swim and surprise, surprise still bald! Also saw lots of other people will seriouys aliments, felt a little wierd.
Met some Iranian kids, who were very curious to find out about England, the US etc. They wanted to know about how it is with English girls, I told them they are nightmare... talked about drinking, music, Iranain dating... etc. They were around all around 16 years old, so you can imagine there interests. They really weren't keen on the goverment, and dreamt of leaving Iran. Unfortunately I have found this too often to be the case...
Day 44,
Masuleh,
Beautiful stepped village in the mountains, unfortunately shrouded in fog and drizzle. Met a funny Iranian guy who was the son of a hotelier, Soroosh. Stayed in a hut rather like those of south east asia, but with out the beach and sunshine. Still very peaceful.
Read my book.
Day 45
Masuleh
Went for a walk with my umbrella, still managed to get soaked, and fall over covering myself in mud.
In the afternoon, met some design, beauty and english students. They were very funny and again curious. Not to much English between them, but more reason for me to speak Farsi, which I tried absimally.
Exchanged numbers with them.
Day 46
Zanjan
Headed off for Zanjan, got out of the fog that covers the Caspian coast and travelled up a wide river valley, eventually passing a large dam and a bank of wind turbines on the other side of the resevoir. The landscape was very lunar-esk, created by Volcano's thousands of years ago. Crossed another mountain range, higher this time and much colder, in fact the road passed up into the cloud before dropping down the otherside into sun.
Stayed in a filthy hotel, but met a friendly engineer over tea who I showed we around and we had something to eat. Explained to his friend I didn't believe in god much to his dismay... i have had this reaction a few times now in Iran.
Day 47
Takestan
Before Takestan i went to see a large domed building with much scaffold. It was a Unesco world hertiage site, it was quite empressive, but I think they had quite alot of work still to do on it.
Takestan was a bit of dump and nothing to see but I met up with two friends that I had made in Masuleh. Both called Maryam, both were heading for Tehran so we hung out and in the end I stayed with a family who were there friends.
The family's daughter was a good painter and I expressed an interest and immediatley ever painting she had ever done appeared. She had talent, but unfortunately now where to use it...
One of the son in laws was a hairdresser and was keen to rid me of my now large beard but I was having none of it... they didn't really get the idea behind growing it, mind you I am starting to have doubts too... some said I look like across between Dostyevski and Castro... not sure who would be better..
Day 48
Qazvin
In the morning I went to the internet to show the Maryam's were I was bought up, school, university, designers I liked etc. Unfortunately most music sites, facebook and myspace are blocked here. So the internet show did something that got by it and I showed them the photo's from facebook. I think some of them, from some of our rather heavier nights out were perhaps a little to different from the life they know.
After that it was time to hit the road, they bought me a present before I left of a plastic rose to put on the bike, it was my request, I thought it went well with the bell from Austria.
Qazvin, arrived late, not a bad city, a few interesting things to see.
Met a nice guy who ran a model airplane shop.
Day 49
Qazvin,
Went for a wonder to see the sites... almost got run over by a car (actualy it wasnt that close), then the driver proceeded to beckon me into his car and take me for a tea at his tailor shop. he was very comical and he had a good banter with his staff. None could speak english but I felt very relaxed.
Later I met up with the airplane shop man and he had a friend with him who was a manager at the Unilever factory. He could speak good english. We went for a drive around the city and i saw some of the sites. Conversation turned to politics and I had the first proper discussion about USA and Israel.
I have to say my lack of knowledge on Zionism and the foundation of Israel put me at a disadvantage, but he really wasn't keen on its existence in the middle east. He inferred that perhaps the holocaust didn't happen also, which I found a little surprising. I had read a newspaper earlier that day and been watching Iranian news and I have to say it is absolute drivel! It is so full of propoganda it is not a surprise that you might end up thinking everyone is out to get you.
In fairness both sides of Israel's and Iran's goverment have said very foolish things, my only hope is that it is only retoric.
We discussed Iraq, there is still alot of pain in Iran from the war that we heard little about between Iraq and Iran. 1 million people lost there lives in virtual trench warfare till 1990. Everywhere you go here you see dedications to the Martyrs of the war.
Day 50
Tehran
Came to Tehran and surprisingly found a Hotel and parked the bike all relatively easily.
Tehran traffic is absurd, I have already discussed this though so I will not dwell, except to say "What is wrong with these people!"
Met up with the brother of a friend of my sisters, who I will call Farzad. Very interesting discussing with him the politics of the middle east and the history of the revolution.
There were a couple of things in particular that I want to share, there is a opinion that Iran is trying to negotiate itself as the voice of the Islamic world and essentially the middle east. The goverment does seem obessed with foriegn policy and demonising the US. Everywhere I go people ask me what people in the US and England think of Iran, expecting me to say everyone thinks it is dangerous and a scary country. I tell them honestly that we don't hear much about Iran and what we do usually involves the Nuclear facilities. People who think of it as scary are usually ignorant of the reality.
Unfortunately I have seen many down with Israel and US posters since I have been here and seen a large rally, attended by what looked like bussed in school children, all of whom were girls, who I doubt had any real knowledge of the US or its foriegn policy. This by and large does not mirror the general publics opinion, which is dominated by curiosity rather than any sort of hatred. In fact I met two Americains today, who have only been welcomed since they have been in Iran.
Back to the conversation with Farzad, we also talked about the revolution, he told me that obiviously many people lost there business after the fall of the Shar, and many of the Communists who helped establish it were later, tried and put to death. There are theories that perhaps, our old friend the US actually supported and sponsored the Islamic groups after the revelution as they were scared the Communists might get control of the country.
We also talked about Tehran and really if you have the money it is like any other city. You can drink, you can party, you can have a girlfriend, you get into fights, it seems more often with the police than anyone else. You can walk around with girls your are not related to or married to with out being stopped by the police, unlike the rest of Iran.
Day 51
Tehran.
The next day I put this into practise meeting up with one of the Maryams. We went to the Contemporary Art Museum which was really quite good. Then the photographers gallery, which had a celebration of the Hajib, much to Marayam's disgust (she wasn't a fan of this item of clothing), then the National Jewel Museum. My god Iran has alot of jewels and jewellery. Really the most incrediable peieces, I think I have ever seen, not that I am an expert, but I did do a show for a Prince once, don't you know.
Later I met up with a Dutch journalist I had met. He was in Tehran, undercover to write about the US election. To be honest I didn't think there was much of a story here as people didn't really seem to care... perhaps slightly in favour of Barrack, but to them it was all the same.
Then we bumped into a another Dutch journalist however she wasn't writing a story. We went to the Armenian Club, which I think is one of the only restauarants in Tehran where you don't have to wear a Hijab. Armenians are generally Christians and tend to be more openly drinkers and non hijab wearers. I think about 5% of the Iranian population are Armenians.
Day 52,
Tehran,
Hung out with Maryam again, we went to the Bazaar, which has a huge economic influence on the country, it is where alot of the big deals are done. Then we went to the Iran National Museum, which had some great pieces from Persopolis.
Later met Farzad and his girlfriend for dinner. Had very tasty kebabs... I have had alot of kebabs since I have been in Iran, however these were definitely worth a mention.
Day 53,
Tehran,
Saw a demonstration outside the US Den of Espionage (Formally the US Embassy), this is where the CIA, with Britains backing, plotted to over throw the Iranian goverment with a Coup that took place in 1953 as it had nationalised Anglo-Iranian Oil and we weren't happy about the loss of revenue.In 1979 this where the revolutionary guard stormed the building at the begining of the revolution and took everyone hostage for 444 days..
Now there are anti-US murals on the outside and I imagine it is were most anti-US rallies are held, such as the one I saw.
Later I went to the Golestan Palace with my Dutch friend, the palace is a shrine to all the excesses of the Shars of yester year.
We then went for a tour on the bike and ended up at the parlimentary libiary and we were recieved by the head of PR amd international affairs for the libiary, it was very nice, but slightly disconcerting that he asked us to write our full names down for him, so he could "learn them"...
Later I bumped into the Kiwi couple, whom I had met in Tabriz, weird! Unfortunately Racheals boyfriend, Tristian had just been hit by a bus and although seemed fine, I am sure was pretty shaken. He had gone to hospital and had all the checks and had the x-ray transparencies to prove it. It was another reminder of why the roads in Iran are the largest cause of death.
Later went back to my bike to go back to the hotel, I had complacently left it on the street till about mid-night, this was not such a good idea. Unfortunately someone had, had the mirrors away, some billy cans for camping and most depressingly my bell from Austria. C'est La Vie...
Day 54,
Esfahan
Arrived late after a long day's riding. From Tehran I had stopped to see the great Imman Khomeini's Shrine a massive complex just south of Tehran. Talk about biggin your self up!
Started to really ride in the desert now and pass by more barren mountians.
Have to be careful with petrol here as the stations are not so close together.
Met a young lad, also riding in Iran, he was harmless but a bit of a plonker.
He like me had just passed his liscence, bought a large 650cc motorbike, had it stolen twice, broke down severly in Germany with a huge 3700 Euro repair bill. Then crashed it and broke his leg for 6 months... actually I have to respect him for keeping going!
Day 55,
Esfahan,
Stunning city! Absolutely beautiful. Imman Sq is incredible and the bridges and river make a beautiful place to stroll in the evening.
Met the a ridicualous Philosophy student called Saman and his friend. He is desperate to marry an English girl and move to London... so if anyone knows anyone... i have a photo and he is willing to pay...
Day 56,
Esfahan,
Went to a couple of beautiful palaces and then hung out with Saman. He like many is really fed up with the lack of freedom under the current goverment. He in fact had trained to be a clergy but had, had a huge U turn in belief and become an athiest. He was very well read and obviously had talent that would be wasted in Iran as idealogically he could never work with or within the current state, hence his desperation to leave.
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
Once out of Tabriz it was relatively pleasent journey upto Ahar the town
before the road climbs more sharply up to Kaleyabar. The landscape thus far
had been barren rock and sand. With greenery mainly confined to the
carefully manicured island strips in towns that prevent traffic from
driving on the opposite side of the road and to the banks of meanding rivers
that occasionally cut through the arid countryside.
Beyond Ahar however as the land rose and the climate became more temperate,
the landscape broke out into fertile pastures and inbetween wooded areas
planted with Walnut trees and orchards.
Rising still further up towards 2000m the route disappeared into a thick
fog, and the air temperature droped quickly, forcing me to stop and tie my
scarf around my face.
I eventually arrived in Kaleybar and the small mountian town was shrouded in
a very low opressive cloud that hid the top of the mountain
and Babak castle. I did what one can only do in this sort of situation and
had a chai!
As with Turkey, Iranian's take sugar with there tea and not milk. Normally
about 3 cubes, but rather than put these in the cup and use a spoon to
dissolve them, they pop the cube into there mouth and drink the tea over it,
thus saving on washing up! Now I tried this but I couldn't get it to work
and alway seemed to end up with a very sugery first mouthful and not much
after. In the tea house come restuarant, there was a group of 6 Iranains at
another table, they were curious to who I was and where I was from as I had
now become accustomed to. They offered me some soup and I ordered a kebab,
there was some discussion over my job and where I was staying. After further
discussion much in Farsi amongst themselves and the restaurant
proprieter, one of the chaps from the table said I must stay with him and
his family that evening as the hotel I wanted to stay in was closed. Ok this
sounded good to me, in the meantime he had also generously paid for my meal
too. We arranged to meet back at 6pm after he finished work.
I filled a few hours knocking about the town, meeting one of the town
photographers and having more chai and a wate pipe. Met some youths who were
fairly pleasent, tried to speak english to me with much difficulty and with
some hysterics from the assembly of friends, always a little disconcerting.
Eventually I returned to the restuarant, which was now shut, but someone
quickly came and opened it. 6pm came and went and after a while the
restaurant propriter and assembled curious colleagues, suggested he wasn't
coming, infact I think they tried to call him. I had been stood up. I wasn't
devastated as he wasn't Claudi Schiffer and I knew something else would
unfold. Eventually after some argument between the gahered locals as to who
would put me up and strangely it seemed I wasn't short of offers, it was
decided I was to stay with the propriter, a young chap called Babak, named
of coarse after the castle. At this stage I didn't really care who I stayed
with provided I had a little warmth and a roof and I gratefully accepted. We
stayed awhile in the restuarant and people came and went and answered the
inevitable rally of questions regarding my name, where I was from etc. At
about 8pm I was taken to his home just behind the restaurant.
It turned out he had three other brothers and one sister. One brother was
married and ran the small shop next door, one helped in the restuarant and
the other was still at school. The sister who seemed to speak Ok english,
but unfotunately stayed fairly hidden away, helped at home and had finished
university.
There home was spacious mainly due to the lack of furniture. I have since
discovered this is fairly typical of traditional homes. The floor was
covered in rugs, that stretch from wall to wall, with some cushions arranged
along the walls near the gas burner, with a TV in one corner on a display
unit. There was a small kitchen and two further spaces curtained off from
the main living room. Some fake flowers and pictures sparsley adourned the
walls, one could almost say it was modernist bungalow, with the odd ethenic
and post modern touch.
I ate with the men and the women ate in the kitchen. This was of coarse done
on the floor using a large sort of picnic sheet. We had already removed our
shoes at the front door, so tucked our socks under the sheet so it became a
sort of table cloth come servette. After dinner using various aids,
including my Point it book, sound effects and some scraps of Farsi in the
lonely planet, i communciated the best i could. We drank much tea, which now
always came with a spoon much to there amusement, nuts, fruit etc. At one
point a small bottle of the infamous home brew appeared but I think that
with the whole family present, I prevented from trying it. It smelt pretty
strong though.
Time went on and I was asked at what time I usually went to sleep. Now this
was tricky because, basically everyone will stay up till you say you would
like to go to sleep. So i said about 11pm, which was overshot by some
protracted discussion. Nearing midnight the bedding came out and the men
headed for one area and the women another. I was directed to a futon style
matress on the floor. I wasn't really sure what the dress code was for bed
so I went with boxers and a T-shirt, everyone else seemed to have some sort
of track suit bottoms, I didn't seem to cause offence though. I think I fell
asleep within minutes of being in bed.
Day 42,
Kaleybar and the infamous Babak Castle
I woke hoping to head for the castle, unfortunately the weather was still dismally foggy. So i kicked around in the village and then I went with one of the brothers to there garden. The weather was very wet and it felt like a bit of a ridiculous mission. i say mission because the garden was not a back garden but more of an oversize allotment about 5 mins from the town on a mountian side. When we got there, i could hear frenzied dog barking, great I thought so far wild dogs and I haven't got on too well.
The dog came running like a shot out of a gun towards me teeth blazing, I had been given the backpack to carry which contained some chicken we planned to barbeque, so the dog saw me as a long awaited meal!
Thankfully Babak had some control over the beast and at the last moment steered him away from my vunerable (juicy looking) leg. the dog I found out was wild and had been found on the mountain and recieved food from the family, some what sporadically I guessed and in turn it acted as a guard dog over there garden. It was pretty good at this as it demonstrated noty only to me but to a passing sheperd scaring the living daylight out of the poor man and almost taking his arm off. I have experienced this else where and it seems to be a fairly common method of keeping intruders out. Unfortunately we couldn't got to the main garden as the river one must cross to get there had swelled under the rainfall so we had to do with there other orchard. my host set about lighting a fire to cook the chicken, now everything was pretty wet and at this stage I was getting a little frustrated being sat in a wet muddy ground next to a beast (the dog) that was plainly hungrier than i was. Eventually some petrol appeared from somewhere and my friends fire lighting skills came out. The petrol I didn't mind to much but when also tried to ignite the collected wood with a plastic crate he had found, i did step in and suggest that perhaps if we planned on consuming the cooked goods I would prefer them not to be tinged with plastic fumes. In the end the open fire kebabs we cooked were great and the dog got his share.
When we returned to the house the father of the family had returned from Tabriz along with his brother and through broken english the conversation tunred to politics.
Iranians are intruged to know what the English people think about Iran and why the goverment has a problem with Iran. I gently explained that bar the nuclear issue we do not hear a great deal of Iran in our press. Interestingly the family explained that like the people I had met in Tabriz, they felt more connected to Azerbaijan than Iran. In fact they were rightly upset with the current goverment, who had last year banned an annual festival that took place at Babak castle that many Azari (people of the region) went to. The festival was a celebration of Babak an anciet freeman who resided in the castle when the region had much more power. The festival consisted of people whereing local dress, drinking (alcohol) and general merriment. The local area was rightly very upset about this. The goverments reason, being that they felt it was breeding a desire for autonomy, and they strictly enforced the ban with a massive police presence on the day and time in jail for anyone who wouldn't abide by this. For me this was one of the first indication of how parnoid the Iran state is... perhaps rightly so.
That night we had a huge family meal and later I went hunting with the boys of the family. We didn't see a thing, i was jokingly blamed... I suggested they cam to England as there are plenty of Rabbits...
OK TIME TO BE BRIEF AGAIN
Day 43,
Sara'eyn,
Bit of dump, Iranian tourist resort... hot spring meant to cure anything from baldness to MS. So went for a swim and surprise, surprise still bald! Also saw lots of other people will seriouys aliments, felt a little wierd.
Met some Iranian kids, who were very curious to find out about England, the US etc. They wanted to know about how it is with English girls, I told them they are nightmare... talked about drinking, music, Iranain dating... etc. They were around all around 16 years old, so you can imagine there interests. They really weren't keen on the goverment, and dreamt of leaving Iran. Unfortunately I have found this too often to be the case...
Day 44,
Masuleh,
Beautiful stepped village in the mountains, unfortunately shrouded in fog and drizzle. Met a funny Iranian guy who was the son of a hotelier, Soroosh. Stayed in a hut rather like those of south east asia, but with out the beach and sunshine. Still very peaceful.
Read my book.
Day 45
Masuleh
Went for a walk with my umbrella, still managed to get soaked, and fall over covering myself in mud.
In the afternoon, met some design, beauty and english students. They were very funny and again curious. Not to much English between them, but more reason for me to speak Farsi, which I tried absimally.
Exchanged numbers with them.
Day 46
Zanjan
Headed off for Zanjan, got out of the fog that covers the Caspian coast and travelled up a wide river valley, eventually passing a large dam and a bank of wind turbines on the other side of the resevoir. The landscape was very lunar-esk, created by Volcano's thousands of years ago. Crossed another mountain range, higher this time and much colder, in fact the road passed up into the cloud before dropping down the otherside into sun.
Stayed in a filthy hotel, but met a friendly engineer over tea who I showed we around and we had something to eat. Explained to his friend I didn't believe in god much to his dismay... i have had this reaction a few times now in Iran.
Day 47
Takestan
Before Takestan i went to see a large domed building with much scaffold. It was a Unesco world hertiage site, it was quite empressive, but I think they had quite alot of work still to do on it.
Takestan was a bit of dump and nothing to see but I met up with two friends that I had made in Masuleh. Both called Maryam, both were heading for Tehran so we hung out and in the end I stayed with a family who were there friends.
The family's daughter was a good painter and I expressed an interest and immediatley ever painting she had ever done appeared. She had talent, but unfortunately now where to use it...
One of the son in laws was a hairdresser and was keen to rid me of my now large beard but I was having none of it... they didn't really get the idea behind growing it, mind you I am starting to have doubts too... some said I look like across between Dostyevski and Castro... not sure who would be better..
Day 48
Qazvin
In the morning I went to the internet to show the Maryam's were I was bought up, school, university, designers I liked etc. Unfortunately most music sites, facebook and myspace are blocked here. So the internet show did something that got by it and I showed them the photo's from facebook. I think some of them, from some of our rather heavier nights out were perhaps a little to different from the life they know.
After that it was time to hit the road, they bought me a present before I left of a plastic rose to put on the bike, it was my request, I thought it went well with the bell from Austria.
Qazvin, arrived late, not a bad city, a few interesting things to see.
Met a nice guy who ran a model airplane shop.
Day 49
Qazvin,
Went for a wonder to see the sites... almost got run over by a car (actualy it wasnt that close), then the driver proceeded to beckon me into his car and take me for a tea at his tailor shop. he was very comical and he had a good banter with his staff. None could speak english but I felt very relaxed.
Later I met up with the airplane shop man and he had a friend with him who was a manager at the Unilever factory. He could speak good english. We went for a drive around the city and i saw some of the sites. Conversation turned to politics and I had the first proper discussion about USA and Israel.
I have to say my lack of knowledge on Zionism and the foundation of Israel put me at a disadvantage, but he really wasn't keen on its existence in the middle east. He inferred that perhaps the holocaust didn't happen also, which I found a little surprising. I had read a newspaper earlier that day and been watching Iranian news and I have to say it is absolute drivel! It is so full of propoganda it is not a surprise that you might end up thinking everyone is out to get you.
In fairness both sides of Israel's and Iran's goverment have said very foolish things, my only hope is that it is only retoric.
We discussed Iraq, there is still alot of pain in Iran from the war that we heard little about between Iraq and Iran. 1 million people lost there lives in virtual trench warfare till 1990. Everywhere you go here you see dedications to the Martyrs of the war.
Day 50
Tehran
Came to Tehran and surprisingly found a Hotel and parked the bike all relatively easily.
Tehran traffic is absurd, I have already discussed this though so I will not dwell, except to say "What is wrong with these people!"
Met up with the brother of a friend of my sisters, who I will call Farzad. Very interesting discussing with him the politics of the middle east and the history of the revolution.
There were a couple of things in particular that I want to share, there is a opinion that Iran is trying to negotiate itself as the voice of the Islamic world and essentially the middle east. The goverment does seem obessed with foriegn policy and demonising the US. Everywhere I go people ask me what people in the US and England think of Iran, expecting me to say everyone thinks it is dangerous and a scary country. I tell them honestly that we don't hear much about Iran and what we do usually involves the Nuclear facilities. People who think of it as scary are usually ignorant of the reality.
Unfortunately I have seen many down with Israel and US posters since I have been here and seen a large rally, attended by what looked like bussed in school children, all of whom were girls, who I doubt had any real knowledge of the US or its foriegn policy. This by and large does not mirror the general publics opinion, which is dominated by curiosity rather than any sort of hatred. In fact I met two Americains today, who have only been welcomed since they have been in Iran.
Back to the conversation with Farzad, we also talked about the revolution, he told me that obiviously many people lost there business after the fall of the Shar, and many of the Communists who helped establish it were later, tried and put to death. There are theories that perhaps, our old friend the US actually supported and sponsored the Islamic groups after the revelution as they were scared the Communists might get control of the country.
We also talked about Tehran and really if you have the money it is like any other city. You can drink, you can party, you can have a girlfriend, you get into fights, it seems more often with the police than anyone else. You can walk around with girls your are not related to or married to with out being stopped by the police, unlike the rest of Iran.
Day 51
Tehran.
The next day I put this into practise meeting up with one of the Maryams. We went to the Contemporary Art Museum which was really quite good. Then the photographers gallery, which had a celebration of the Hajib, much to Marayam's disgust (she wasn't a fan of this item of clothing), then the National Jewel Museum. My god Iran has alot of jewels and jewellery. Really the most incrediable peieces, I think I have ever seen, not that I am an expert, but I did do a show for a Prince once, don't you know.
Later I met up with a Dutch journalist I had met. He was in Tehran, undercover to write about the US election. To be honest I didn't think there was much of a story here as people didn't really seem to care... perhaps slightly in favour of Barrack, but to them it was all the same.
Then we bumped into a another Dutch journalist however she wasn't writing a story. We went to the Armenian Club, which I think is one of the only restauarants in Tehran where you don't have to wear a Hijab. Armenians are generally Christians and tend to be more openly drinkers and non hijab wearers. I think about 5% of the Iranian population are Armenians.
Day 52,
Tehran,
Hung out with Maryam again, we went to the Bazaar, which has a huge economic influence on the country, it is where alot of the big deals are done. Then we went to the Iran National Museum, which had some great pieces from Persopolis.
Later met Farzad and his girlfriend for dinner. Had very tasty kebabs... I have had alot of kebabs since I have been in Iran, however these were definitely worth a mention.
Day 53,
Tehran,
Saw a demonstration outside the US Den of Espionage (Formally the US Embassy), this is where the CIA, with Britains backing, plotted to over throw the Iranian goverment with a Coup that took place in 1953 as it had nationalised Anglo-Iranian Oil and we weren't happy about the loss of revenue.In 1979 this where the revolutionary guard stormed the building at the begining of the revolution and took everyone hostage for 444 days..
Now there are anti-US murals on the outside and I imagine it is were most anti-US rallies are held, such as the one I saw.
Later I went to the Golestan Palace with my Dutch friend, the palace is a shrine to all the excesses of the Shars of yester year.
We then went for a tour on the bike and ended up at the parlimentary libiary and we were recieved by the head of PR amd international affairs for the libiary, it was very nice, but slightly disconcerting that he asked us to write our full names down for him, so he could "learn them"...
Later I bumped into the Kiwi couple, whom I had met in Tabriz, weird! Unfortunately Racheals boyfriend, Tristian had just been hit by a bus and although seemed fine, I am sure was pretty shaken. He had gone to hospital and had all the checks and had the x-ray transparencies to prove it. It was another reminder of why the roads in Iran are the largest cause of death.
Later went back to my bike to go back to the hotel, I had complacently left it on the street till about mid-night, this was not such a good idea. Unfortunately someone had, had the mirrors away, some billy cans for camping and most depressingly my bell from Austria. C'est La Vie...
Day 54,
Esfahan
Arrived late after a long day's riding. From Tehran I had stopped to see the great Imman Khomeini's Shrine a massive complex just south of Tehran. Talk about biggin your self up!
Started to really ride in the desert now and pass by more barren mountians.
Have to be careful with petrol here as the stations are not so close together.
Met a young lad, also riding in Iran, he was harmless but a bit of a plonker.
He like me had just passed his liscence, bought a large 650cc motorbike, had it stolen twice, broke down severly in Germany with a huge 3700 Euro repair bill. Then crashed it and broke his leg for 6 months... actually I have to respect him for keeping going!
Day 55,
Esfahan,
Stunning city! Absolutely beautiful. Imman Sq is incredible and the bridges and river make a beautiful place to stroll in the evening.
Met the a ridicualous Philosophy student called Saman and his friend. He is desperate to marry an English girl and move to London... so if anyone knows anyone... i have a photo and he is willing to pay...
Day 56,
Esfahan,
Went to a couple of beautiful palaces and then hung out with Saman. He like many is really fed up with the lack of freedom under the current goverment. He in fact had trained to be a clergy but had, had a huge U turn in belief and become an athiest. He was very well read and obviously had talent that would be wasted in Iran as idealogically he could never work with or within the current state, hence his desperation to leave.
Thursday 23 October 2008
Iran, I never believe in first impressions but here are some.
Day 38 Continued - Tabriz, Iran
So here I was crossing into the unknown. When in London I had told people I was traveling to Iran I had received a few blank looks, some worried sentiments and some serious concerns. So many people seem to have so much to say about this country but so few have visited it, so I was excited to find out what the real picture is.
I have to say first off the border wasn't too scary... in fact the border guards at Stanstead are more scary looking. There was quite a lot of paperwork and the enjoyed the various get ups of the staff manning the operation. The main guy I was dealing with wore a snappy shiny black suit and white shirt, he looked pretty fly. The man in charge wore a jumper that I think might have been from C&As back catalogue. Then there was the man who did the computer inputting, I can't really remember what he looked like because my distinct memory of him was the comedy backhand he received (it was straight out of the movies) from a man who I assume wanted to get through the border quickly with no trouble. I didn't need to grease wheels thankfully and I was through in a record time of an hour. I was in!
As I drove down and out of the border area, I got my first glimpse of the chaos I was letting myself in for. Exiting the gates, I was confronted by a wall of pirouetting cars each snaking through the tangle of vehicles entering and exiting. Each seemed to have a magical inch thick force field that prevented any contact. Obviously the illusion of the force field was soon shattered but I will come to that later.
I stopped for fuel, Iran's petrol stations are not as numerous as Europe and I planned to make a habit of filling up whenever I could particularly as the bike only has a range of 100 miles. The fuel attendant asked for 20,000 Rials. Now I knew the fuel was cheap but that was ridiculous. About one pound to fill the tank!
Tank full and everything in order I was ready to hit the highway. I headed for Tabriz 300km, I would take about 3 1/2 hours. Thankfully the highways seemed to be pretty empty and it felt good to be making progress. As I moved along about 100km per hour, every now and then an Iranian car packed full with 5 passengers would get as close to my back tyre as possible and then creep up alongside me so I could almost change gear for the driver and everyone inside would stare, wave and, or smile. At first I almost fell off the road, not used to quite such a cozy relationship with my highway sharing, car driving friends. Within 10 minutes this was to be topped by my not so friendly, highway sharing lorry drivers. On a straight section of road, about 300 meters in front of me a lorry was coming towards me in the opposite lane as is to be expected, however slightly more disconcerting was the lorry behind that despite my presence in the middle of my side of the road decided to pull out and over take his fellow lorry driver. This created a problem for me either I would become mince meat or I needed an exit strategy. The later seemed the best bet, thankfully those thoughtful Iranian asphalt layers had left a thin ribbon of tarmac just under a meter wide on the edge of the road, this is usually populated by road kill, of which sadly I have seen much and we are not talking bunny rabbits here, think more domestic animals large and small, anyway at that moment not wanting to join them and become I permanent inhabitant of the highway fringe cemetery, I yanked the bike into the safe zone as two large squealing, black smoke belching trucks roared past. OK so that's how its done in Iran. Size is king and I am at the bottom of the food chain!
Having just about got to grips with the highway after 300 km, the road started to become busy again I was entering Tabriz. Now the chaos of leaving the border was one thing but this was a completely different matter. I can't really explain how the traffic management works here, and indeed it is arguable weather it does. As I entered the city I saw my first victim of a failed 1 inch force field. He had managed to beach his car two wheels in the air and two wheels disappearing beneath street level.
I can explain this, in Iran the drains are not like drains else where, from childhood you might have some memories of donning wellington boots and jumping in the puddles and stepping in and out of the stream in the gutter of your street.
Well in Iran if you allowed your child to do that, they would need a white water raft with trained expert at the helm. The gutters are about 60cm wide and 50cm deep, more of a canal than a gutter. Anyway so this unfortunate chap must have made the mistake of misjudging his positioning in the safe zone and slipped off the edge. As is the way in Iran a crowd seemed to have gathered around and some sort of rescue effort was in full swing.
I headed on, they didn't need another chef. Now driving cities usually doesn't phase me and indeed some people say if you can drive in London or perhaps more particularly Hackney you can drive anywhere. Now that is an out right lie. To drive in Tabriz, not knowing where you are going is perhaps the most challenging and life threatening activity I have ever taken part in. Problem one is every other driver on the road, you have absolutely no way to predict what they will do, problem two most of the signs are in Farsi, with an occasional one in Latin script. So you have to learn a technique of keeping one eye on everyone else on the road and one eye trying to find the way. After asking several confused looking locals I made it to the center and a guesthouse, it was miracle.
The guesthouse was shelter, privacy and refuge from the street. It looked like the sheets complete with cigarette burns and black hairs may not have been washed in recent years and I can be sure that the toilet hadn't by aroma alone but at four pounds a night I couldn't complain.
Having recovered from the road and changed out of my riding gear I decided to wander the streets. It wasn't long before someone said hello, asked me where I was from, where I was going, how long I had been in Iran etc, etc. I think perhaps these are set questions taught at school and I have found this across Turkey and now in Iran. At first it is fun given so much attention but after the sixth child, you just want to clip them round the ear and tell them to bugger off!
Then out of the blue I heard an American ascent. I had not been expecting that. A short man with balding grey hair pushing a bike, speaking very clear American English said 'Hello'. I was quite surprised and stopped. We struck up a conversation. The man's name was Ray, he an Iranian who had lived in Chicago working for IBM for thirty odd years he had been quite successful before for one reason or another he had been forced to return to Iran and had been left with nothing. In Iran he had been party to some anti establishment activity and had been given a little bit of a battering in return. He had also visited Iraq and ended up in a Kurdish jail. I had to respect him for his balls, he seemed harmless and he had certainly had an interesting life. We chatted for a while, he introduced me to a friend of his who was a very good animator. Later that evening I met two very nice Kiwi travellers. Tristin was living in London but now travelling back to New Zealand for a wedding and his friend Rachel was also returning to her native New Zealand for the first time in ten years.
I met the Kiwi's whilst having pizza, so Iranian! However, a rather remarkable thing happened. A young Iranian girl came up to our table and said hello and welcome to Iran. Now considering under Muslim law it is illegal for a man to touch a women he is not either related to or married to and it is considered rude to look a women in the eyes if you are not acquainted with them, this seemed pretty liberal of the girl. She was also pretty casually dressed. Rather than wearing the full black with the shawl wrapped around the face, she wore tight trouser, a shortish skirt and a jumper and a head scarf pulled back so you could see her fringe and it was high at the back so you could see her pony tail. She asked about our eating customs of which we told her about fish and chips in newspaper, which she seemed to like. She thanked us for our time and again welcomed us to Iran and left, for us it felt like we had just witnessed girl power Iranian style.
Day 39 - Tabriz, Iran
The next day I met Ray in the morning, we went and I changed money at the bank which was almost as bureaucratic as getting through the border, following this I went to check on the Visa situation, apparently I was fine as I had entered whilst the visa was valid. I now had 30 days to cross the country.
Next we went to the Bazaar, which was everything you might expect from a middle east market. Spices, sweets, skinned sheep's heads, perfumes and carpets. The carpets I found very interesting. Since I had entered Iran there were a couple of things I was still trying to get my head round. Firstly the lack of alcohol, which I now understand to be elevated by some dodgy moonshine that is home brewed by some of the more liberal population. Now the second item was pornography. Surely this has existed since the dawn of time, weather it be a cave mans scratchings into his rock walls or the stuff that had made Hugh Hefner the wealthy man he is today. My answer laid in the carpet sellers of the Bazaar. As we went in and out of the shops it started to register that a great deal of the carpets had western women on showing OH NO there hair! Not only this but occasionally they would just be in a tightly clinging nightie. Now I am not sure if this filth is legal but I certainly will be complaining to the Mullahs about the portrayal of western women in there country.
After the excitement of the Bazaar we headed for the blue mosque. The mosque had collapsed in the 1700s and only recently been re-erected. Only a few of the blue tiles remained but it was pretty cool. Round the back though even better, was a burial ground from 3000 BC. A walkway passed over the top and you could see down into the graves, skeletons in tact.
Later that day we had another revelation, this time bought to us (The Kiwi's and myself) by a local engineer who had wanted to marry Rachel I suspect, despite the fact he had a wife and a young daughter. He basically explained that area we were in wasn't Iran at all but Azerbaijan. Basically, following some more market research it turns out that the population of northern Iran are Turks not Arabs and speak Turk. Many dream of being reunited with Azerbaijan or certainly becoming autonomous. Another political minefield, right next to Kurdistan.
Day 40 - Tabriz, Iran
I headed for Kandovan on a day trip, it was very nice, pretty similar to Goreme but with out the tourists and a little more rustic and smelling on donkey turd.
On the way back i got hopelessly lost coming back into Tabriz. Finally i found the park i wished to visit. A policeman asked me for a bribe to look after the bike which I promptly refused to give and found a spot round the corner and crossed my fingers it would be alright. It was. In fact, touch wood, I think Iran is an incredibly safe country, bar the traffic.
So here I was crossing into the unknown. When in London I had told people I was traveling to Iran I had received a few blank looks, some worried sentiments and some serious concerns. So many people seem to have so much to say about this country but so few have visited it, so I was excited to find out what the real picture is.
I have to say first off the border wasn't too scary... in fact the border guards at Stanstead are more scary looking. There was quite a lot of paperwork and the enjoyed the various get ups of the staff manning the operation. The main guy I was dealing with wore a snappy shiny black suit and white shirt, he looked pretty fly. The man in charge wore a jumper that I think might have been from C&As back catalogue. Then there was the man who did the computer inputting, I can't really remember what he looked like because my distinct memory of him was the comedy backhand he received (it was straight out of the movies) from a man who I assume wanted to get through the border quickly with no trouble. I didn't need to grease wheels thankfully and I was through in a record time of an hour. I was in!
As I drove down and out of the border area, I got my first glimpse of the chaos I was letting myself in for. Exiting the gates, I was confronted by a wall of pirouetting cars each snaking through the tangle of vehicles entering and exiting. Each seemed to have a magical inch thick force field that prevented any contact. Obviously the illusion of the force field was soon shattered but I will come to that later.
I stopped for fuel, Iran's petrol stations are not as numerous as Europe and I planned to make a habit of filling up whenever I could particularly as the bike only has a range of 100 miles. The fuel attendant asked for 20,000 Rials. Now I knew the fuel was cheap but that was ridiculous. About one pound to fill the tank!
Tank full and everything in order I was ready to hit the highway. I headed for Tabriz 300km, I would take about 3 1/2 hours. Thankfully the highways seemed to be pretty empty and it felt good to be making progress. As I moved along about 100km per hour, every now and then an Iranian car packed full with 5 passengers would get as close to my back tyre as possible and then creep up alongside me so I could almost change gear for the driver and everyone inside would stare, wave and, or smile. At first I almost fell off the road, not used to quite such a cozy relationship with my highway sharing, car driving friends. Within 10 minutes this was to be topped by my not so friendly, highway sharing lorry drivers. On a straight section of road, about 300 meters in front of me a lorry was coming towards me in the opposite lane as is to be expected, however slightly more disconcerting was the lorry behind that despite my presence in the middle of my side of the road decided to pull out and over take his fellow lorry driver. This created a problem for me either I would become mince meat or I needed an exit strategy. The later seemed the best bet, thankfully those thoughtful Iranian asphalt layers had left a thin ribbon of tarmac just under a meter wide on the edge of the road, this is usually populated by road kill, of which sadly I have seen much and we are not talking bunny rabbits here, think more domestic animals large and small, anyway at that moment not wanting to join them and become I permanent inhabitant of the highway fringe cemetery, I yanked the bike into the safe zone as two large squealing, black smoke belching trucks roared past. OK so that's how its done in Iran. Size is king and I am at the bottom of the food chain!
Having just about got to grips with the highway after 300 km, the road started to become busy again I was entering Tabriz. Now the chaos of leaving the border was one thing but this was a completely different matter. I can't really explain how the traffic management works here, and indeed it is arguable weather it does. As I entered the city I saw my first victim of a failed 1 inch force field. He had managed to beach his car two wheels in the air and two wheels disappearing beneath street level.
I can explain this, in Iran the drains are not like drains else where, from childhood you might have some memories of donning wellington boots and jumping in the puddles and stepping in and out of the stream in the gutter of your street.
Well in Iran if you allowed your child to do that, they would need a white water raft with trained expert at the helm. The gutters are about 60cm wide and 50cm deep, more of a canal than a gutter. Anyway so this unfortunate chap must have made the mistake of misjudging his positioning in the safe zone and slipped off the edge. As is the way in Iran a crowd seemed to have gathered around and some sort of rescue effort was in full swing.
I headed on, they didn't need another chef. Now driving cities usually doesn't phase me and indeed some people say if you can drive in London or perhaps more particularly Hackney you can drive anywhere. Now that is an out right lie. To drive in Tabriz, not knowing where you are going is perhaps the most challenging and life threatening activity I have ever taken part in. Problem one is every other driver on the road, you have absolutely no way to predict what they will do, problem two most of the signs are in Farsi, with an occasional one in Latin script. So you have to learn a technique of keeping one eye on everyone else on the road and one eye trying to find the way. After asking several confused looking locals I made it to the center and a guesthouse, it was miracle.
The guesthouse was shelter, privacy and refuge from the street. It looked like the sheets complete with cigarette burns and black hairs may not have been washed in recent years and I can be sure that the toilet hadn't by aroma alone but at four pounds a night I couldn't complain.
Having recovered from the road and changed out of my riding gear I decided to wander the streets. It wasn't long before someone said hello, asked me where I was from, where I was going, how long I had been in Iran etc, etc. I think perhaps these are set questions taught at school and I have found this across Turkey and now in Iran. At first it is fun given so much attention but after the sixth child, you just want to clip them round the ear and tell them to bugger off!
Then out of the blue I heard an American ascent. I had not been expecting that. A short man with balding grey hair pushing a bike, speaking very clear American English said 'Hello'. I was quite surprised and stopped. We struck up a conversation. The man's name was Ray, he an Iranian who had lived in Chicago working for IBM for thirty odd years he had been quite successful before for one reason or another he had been forced to return to Iran and had been left with nothing. In Iran he had been party to some anti establishment activity and had been given a little bit of a battering in return. He had also visited Iraq and ended up in a Kurdish jail. I had to respect him for his balls, he seemed harmless and he had certainly had an interesting life. We chatted for a while, he introduced me to a friend of his who was a very good animator. Later that evening I met two very nice Kiwi travellers. Tristin was living in London but now travelling back to New Zealand for a wedding and his friend Rachel was also returning to her native New Zealand for the first time in ten years.
I met the Kiwi's whilst having pizza, so Iranian! However, a rather remarkable thing happened. A young Iranian girl came up to our table and said hello and welcome to Iran. Now considering under Muslim law it is illegal for a man to touch a women he is not either related to or married to and it is considered rude to look a women in the eyes if you are not acquainted with them, this seemed pretty liberal of the girl. She was also pretty casually dressed. Rather than wearing the full black with the shawl wrapped around the face, she wore tight trouser, a shortish skirt and a jumper and a head scarf pulled back so you could see her fringe and it was high at the back so you could see her pony tail. She asked about our eating customs of which we told her about fish and chips in newspaper, which she seemed to like. She thanked us for our time and again welcomed us to Iran and left, for us it felt like we had just witnessed girl power Iranian style.
Day 39 - Tabriz, Iran
The next day I met Ray in the morning, we went and I changed money at the bank which was almost as bureaucratic as getting through the border, following this I went to check on the Visa situation, apparently I was fine as I had entered whilst the visa was valid. I now had 30 days to cross the country.
Next we went to the Bazaar, which was everything you might expect from a middle east market. Spices, sweets, skinned sheep's heads, perfumes and carpets. The carpets I found very interesting. Since I had entered Iran there were a couple of things I was still trying to get my head round. Firstly the lack of alcohol, which I now understand to be elevated by some dodgy moonshine that is home brewed by some of the more liberal population. Now the second item was pornography. Surely this has existed since the dawn of time, weather it be a cave mans scratchings into his rock walls or the stuff that had made Hugh Hefner the wealthy man he is today. My answer laid in the carpet sellers of the Bazaar. As we went in and out of the shops it started to register that a great deal of the carpets had western women on showing OH NO there hair! Not only this but occasionally they would just be in a tightly clinging nightie. Now I am not sure if this filth is legal but I certainly will be complaining to the Mullahs about the portrayal of western women in there country.
After the excitement of the Bazaar we headed for the blue mosque. The mosque had collapsed in the 1700s and only recently been re-erected. Only a few of the blue tiles remained but it was pretty cool. Round the back though even better, was a burial ground from 3000 BC. A walkway passed over the top and you could see down into the graves, skeletons in tact.
Later that day we had another revelation, this time bought to us (The Kiwi's and myself) by a local engineer who had wanted to marry Rachel I suspect, despite the fact he had a wife and a young daughter. He basically explained that area we were in wasn't Iran at all but Azerbaijan. Basically, following some more market research it turns out that the population of northern Iran are Turks not Arabs and speak Turk. Many dream of being reunited with Azerbaijan or certainly becoming autonomous. Another political minefield, right next to Kurdistan.
Day 40 - Tabriz, Iran
I headed for Kandovan on a day trip, it was very nice, pretty similar to Goreme but with out the tourists and a little more rustic and smelling on donkey turd.
On the way back i got hopelessly lost coming back into Tabriz. Finally i found the park i wished to visit. A policeman asked me for a bribe to look after the bike which I promptly refused to give and found a spot round the corner and crossed my fingers it would be alright. It was. In fact, touch wood, I think Iran is an incredibly safe country, bar the traffic.
Sunday 19 October 2008
There's More..... Welcome Iran!
Day 36 - Van, Turkey.
So I leave picturesque Mardin behind and start the long haul north to the border. The landscape changes from the sunbaked plain bordering Syria to the high volcanic dormant or not mountains that border Lake Van. The temperature gets colder and soon enough I see snow of the mountain peaks. This is real Kurdistan, not that the turkish would call it that but some of the locals do. I visit a ruined castle, pass gorges and waterfalls the vegetation starts to green up compared to the south but showing a the autumn colours coming through. Lake Van is huge more like a sea really. Its so tricky to circumnavigate the trains here get loaded on to boats to cross to the other side. I don't have that luxury and want to be in the city of Van a good couple of hours before dark so I push on. I notice the intensity of army bases increasing the majority just have light armoured vehicles and many seem to be training grounds. Eventually i arrive at Van about 4pm find a hotel that rather drab communist look and head out for something to eat. Finding a kebab house where I sit in front of the coals that the chef cooks the meat on. This is not for tourists this could be compared to a bar in the UK. It was good but after I was still looking for something. I wanted a night out, a beer, some music, some people dancing, some fun (western style). I asked at the hotel and they said yes there are two bars but both are closed... it was only 8pm!! They could serve alcohol, they said at there american bar. Sounded great till I saw it, a small darkened area at the back of the TV room with some grim couches - empty. I had a beer on my own, feeling a little down and out, frustrated, wondering how anyone had a good time in this town.
Day 37 - Turkish side of border with Iran.
I woke and went to the ruin of the Castle at Van. Now I have to say Turkey seems to have a lot of ruins and they are ruins. Most of them look like a open sided quarry where someone has stacked some of the stones up to give the impression of a wall and occasional perhaps post fitted an arch to make the place more authentic. Now I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful ignorant fool and i probably do, but I feel someone needs to start to look after some of these sites. Make some path ways, put some signage up perhaps even a dreaded souvenir shop. It seems a lot of these places are just falling apart and anyone be it man or goat can clamber over the top, turning those mounds of boulders that are ancient walls into beds of ancient boulders. Yeah so I was still in a bit of a bad mood, but I soon cheered up when I left Van and hit my first army checkpoint. They pulled me over, asked to see my passport and asked me where I was going, what my job was?? (I was hardly likely to say spy if i was!)then after some advice about not riding at night they let me carry on. The weather got colder but this wasn't a problem as I had my thermals on. The roads got higher and the landscape more inhospitable. I was now travelling a stretch of road very close to the Iran border passing small subsistence villages. I came to another road block, this had a queue of traffic but the officers beckoned me to the front. Now this was a block, they had a base one side with a tank pointing its barrel at the road and on the other fortifications. The officer asked to see the passport where I was going etc etc. He asked me about photography, it seems I had been spotted taking pictures of the landscape. After showing him my holiday snaps, he didn't seem to concerned. Then he beckoned over another junior office who was carrying a tea pot, he looked confused, the senior officer said something to him and he pulled an awkward face of concentration and said something like.. 'three pazyat in these hills, so watch your step.' Now the second part of the sentence was so well delivered I can only believe it was mimicked from a movie. Not sure what Pazyat were and not really sure I wanted to find out, I pressed on quick. There were many army bases on the way and these were full of tanks and artillery. They looked like they were ready for world war three. I found a campsite not far from one and met a very nice Spanish couple who were over landing in there Toyota. As it got dark there was a glorious sunset with a rainbow. A perfect sign off for Turkey, I was ready for Iran.
Day 38 - Tabriz, Iran.
The Turkish border control, police, and customs officers signed me out and directed me to a large ominous metal gate with a few other pedestrians lurking next to it. I started to screech and scrap as it slowly slid open. Then a man dressed in a karki uniform came over and said 'Welcome to Iran!'
So I leave picturesque Mardin behind and start the long haul north to the border. The landscape changes from the sunbaked plain bordering Syria to the high volcanic dormant or not mountains that border Lake Van. The temperature gets colder and soon enough I see snow of the mountain peaks. This is real Kurdistan, not that the turkish would call it that but some of the locals do. I visit a ruined castle, pass gorges and waterfalls the vegetation starts to green up compared to the south but showing a the autumn colours coming through. Lake Van is huge more like a sea really. Its so tricky to circumnavigate the trains here get loaded on to boats to cross to the other side. I don't have that luxury and want to be in the city of Van a good couple of hours before dark so I push on. I notice the intensity of army bases increasing the majority just have light armoured vehicles and many seem to be training grounds. Eventually i arrive at Van about 4pm find a hotel that rather drab communist look and head out for something to eat. Finding a kebab house where I sit in front of the coals that the chef cooks the meat on. This is not for tourists this could be compared to a bar in the UK. It was good but after I was still looking for something. I wanted a night out, a beer, some music, some people dancing, some fun (western style). I asked at the hotel and they said yes there are two bars but both are closed... it was only 8pm!! They could serve alcohol, they said at there american bar. Sounded great till I saw it, a small darkened area at the back of the TV room with some grim couches - empty. I had a beer on my own, feeling a little down and out, frustrated, wondering how anyone had a good time in this town.
Day 37 - Turkish side of border with Iran.
I woke and went to the ruin of the Castle at Van. Now I have to say Turkey seems to have a lot of ruins and they are ruins. Most of them look like a open sided quarry where someone has stacked some of the stones up to give the impression of a wall and occasional perhaps post fitted an arch to make the place more authentic. Now I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful ignorant fool and i probably do, but I feel someone needs to start to look after some of these sites. Make some path ways, put some signage up perhaps even a dreaded souvenir shop. It seems a lot of these places are just falling apart and anyone be it man or goat can clamber over the top, turning those mounds of boulders that are ancient walls into beds of ancient boulders. Yeah so I was still in a bit of a bad mood, but I soon cheered up when I left Van and hit my first army checkpoint. They pulled me over, asked to see my passport and asked me where I was going, what my job was?? (I was hardly likely to say spy if i was!)then after some advice about not riding at night they let me carry on. The weather got colder but this wasn't a problem as I had my thermals on. The roads got higher and the landscape more inhospitable. I was now travelling a stretch of road very close to the Iran border passing small subsistence villages. I came to another road block, this had a queue of traffic but the officers beckoned me to the front. Now this was a block, they had a base one side with a tank pointing its barrel at the road and on the other fortifications. The officer asked to see the passport where I was going etc etc. He asked me about photography, it seems I had been spotted taking pictures of the landscape. After showing him my holiday snaps, he didn't seem to concerned. Then he beckoned over another junior office who was carrying a tea pot, he looked confused, the senior officer said something to him and he pulled an awkward face of concentration and said something like.. 'three pazyat in these hills, so watch your step.' Now the second part of the sentence was so well delivered I can only believe it was mimicked from a movie. Not sure what Pazyat were and not really sure I wanted to find out, I pressed on quick. There were many army bases on the way and these were full of tanks and artillery. They looked like they were ready for world war three. I found a campsite not far from one and met a very nice Spanish couple who were over landing in there Toyota. As it got dark there was a glorious sunset with a rainbow. A perfect sign off for Turkey, I was ready for Iran.
Day 38 - Tabriz, Iran.
The Turkish border control, police, and customs officers signed me out and directed me to a large ominous metal gate with a few other pedestrians lurking next to it. I started to screech and scrap as it slowly slid open. Then a man dressed in a karki uniform came over and said 'Welcome to Iran!'
Thursday 16 October 2008
To brıng you up to date...
Day 28 - Somewhere between Istanbul and Ankara, Turkey.
Got a new chaın for the bıke. An upgrade! D.I.D. should see me through to Indıa.
Unfortunately I dıdnt get ıt fıtted, I decided to save that for later. Decided to Wilderness camp found an alright spot by a wood a little damp, had a small camp fire.
Day 29 - Somewhere between Ankara and Konya, Turkey.
Woke up early in my tent. Still pitch black outside. Read for a little, couldn't sleep. Eventually got up and made a tea. As I was rumaging around finding my cup and a tea bag, heard a what must have been a wild dog howling like a wolf probably about 20 meters off. I'll be honest, i didn't like it. I grabbed my stick and shouted in the direction of the howl. Had my tea and decided to pack up. Heard the howl some way off. As i was almost finished it came again this time only 5 meters or so away. I completely just shivers down my spine, it was pretty scary. i grabbed the stick shouted and roared, turned the engine on the bike revered it up loadly. Stuffed everything on the bike and road off. Later I laughed at myself and rode down the road making howling noises at the passing traffic. That night i stayed in a motel to be on the safe side.
Day 30 - Konya, Turkey.
Got to Konya found a hotel and did the sites. I was advised to put the bike in secure parking which was a blessing really as it gave me space to fit the new chain.
The old one was really slack and had stretched so that it wanted to jump off the sprockets. So i got the tool kit out and started work. One of the parking attendents had a jack which helped and soon I had the back wheel off. This is when I realised, that it wasn't going to be that simple and I had to take the rear suspension and swing arm off, so off it came. Eventually after a couple hours of work the chain was on and the bike back to working condition. Tried to find a celebration beer but no luck!
Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.
Next day lots of Turkisk Tea with the guys at the parking then off. Went to an undergorund city, those Christians must have been pretty scared of the invading armies to live down there! Then on to Groeme. What a crazy landscape that lave has. Maybe what you would expect on Mars. Stayed in a really nice dorm in Kose Pension. Was an English biker there too, on his way to Syria. Lots of bike talk, boring the other travellers.
Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.
Went for a big walk, beautiful area, and nice town. Found a bar for evening drinks.
Day 32 - Groeme, Turkey.
Tony and I took the bikes out check out some other area's, my bike faired well in the sand as opposed to the big new heavy enduro bike Tony had. There is something to be said for a small one. Went to the same bar as the previous night, becoming accutely aware that we were all travellers hanging out together and not anything to do with our surrounding enviroment. I guess the place was set up perfectly for back packers.
Day 33 - Somewhere between Groeme and Nemrut, Turkey.
Ok so I should have left earlier and I could have made it to Nemrut. But I didn't.
Instead after riding all day and passing several hotels in the early evening I pressed on and it did what it always does and that is get dark. Now I try never to ride at night as you can't always see what is coming. Particularly if it doesn't have lights, like a cow. So just to compound matters just before it started to get dark I turned up a mountain road, this mountain road deteriated into a track. Bear in mind alos that in the back of my mind I am thinking PKK as I am now in the kurdish area. Not good. So I press on, no signs for Nemrut where I know there is a good Pension. I push on heading up the track as it gradually gets worse and worse. I stop, to consider if it is really possible that people use this route. I carry on passing diggers etc understanding that they are doing some road improvements my god it needs it. On I go and it gets worse. Until eventually squinting into the distance I can see the road disappears into a solid rock face. Its a new road in mid construction unfinished. i have just ridden 15 minutes up it in the dark thinking i was going the right way. I have to turn back! So back I go, eventually finding a turning on the right, with the first vechile I had seen in a while unsurprisingly. I ask for Nemrut he points up the correct road. On I go. The road keeps on going weaving through the mountains I pass a few dwelling with lights and decide the next one I will ask if I can camp by as it is getting silly. On I go and now there are no lights and no vehicles. Great! For 20 minutes I ride in the pitch dark, on a horrendous road in the mountains. All that safety advise seemed to have goon out the window. Eventually I see a light and head to it. It is a school and the teacher who runs it is there. After his intial confusion he says no problem, later one of his friends arrive. He is an Imam, and leads the pray in the nearby village mosque. Using a computer to translate, we discuss Islam and hospitality. At one point I think they try and convert me to Islam. I am repeating various prays - I let them no that I can not believe in one god - this seems to deflect the conversion and they are happy with me as a curious visitor. I end up staying in the Imam's house, a very modest hut in the village. I am treated to full hospitality with a full meal before bed. Once you get out of the tourist places Turkey is genuinely surprising in how friendly and hospitable the people are.
Day 34 - Siverak, Turkey.
Next day I leave after breakfast with the teacher. During which his students which range from 5 years old to 8 years old play around us in the school yard. I head for Nemrut eventually making it for early afternoon. Its pretty interesting but may have been a bit of an effort considering, having said that it bought encouters I might not of otherwise had. I head on now pretty low on petrol. I take small ferry ride across a gorge. I am well out of tourist terrority. On the ferry laiden with various vehicles and some terrified cattle handeled by there owner, the rain comes and the wind. As I rise out of the gorge the other side the wind really hits I am really leaning into it, again I don't learn, it is getting dark and I am on an open plain and I am tucking well into my reserve tank. There are no settlements between me and the next town so I have to press on. Eventually I see the town and a petrol station as I approach, the man fills the bike on arrival with 7.5 liters of fuel. Which is the capacity of the tank when empty. I guess I arrived on the fumes. I go to another garage in town and I am asked into the restuarant. I am seated at a table with some other turkisk men, they are all friends and one of them can speak German and some broken english we piece some conversation together and he offers to help me find a hotel. Dinner is paid for by someone, by now i hate to say but you know that will be the deal. So I follow the chap on his bike to a hotel, there is some dispute with the owner as the bike will have to be left on the street and i get told many bikes go missing. The chap decides this is no good and we go to another place where I can put the bike securely away. The hotel is terrible for the price. The manager an Imam too said I had a special price 30 YTL which was special as it was 5 YTL more than the price on the board in reception. I only noticed this till it was too late. It was a bed. I went off to find an internet cafe and get on with updating the blog.
Day 35 Mardin, Turkey.
Came to Mardin as it was recommended by many people and the old Lonely Planet. So here I am. It is pretty nice. I think it is better for the fact that I decided to blow my budget and took a pretty nice hotel for 25 quid. I havent met any other travellers here, see a couple. I know that many people will be scared of coming here as it is well in PKK territory, which you are constantly reminded by the heavy police and army presence. It looks like a war zone which I suppose it is.
Everything got a little worrying tonight when I checked my Iranian Visa. Now this was tricky to get. I got it in August and after it was in my hand put it to the back on my mind. Now I have just checked it and found out it will run out on the 22/10/08. Thats a problem! A pretty big one. Now I have to race to the border get through and get to a city where I can extend it. Currently my shortest route travels along the Iraq border, not great, that is a bad road to travel as that is where various PKK bombings and police killings have taken place. Or I go North which will take me a few days! I think I will play it safe and go north.
So finally I have updated the blog after all that. Hopefully it will be kept up a little now.
Got a new chaın for the bıke. An upgrade! D.I.D. should see me through to Indıa.
Unfortunately I dıdnt get ıt fıtted, I decided to save that for later. Decided to Wilderness camp found an alright spot by a wood a little damp, had a small camp fire.
Day 29 - Somewhere between Ankara and Konya, Turkey.
Woke up early in my tent. Still pitch black outside. Read for a little, couldn't sleep. Eventually got up and made a tea. As I was rumaging around finding my cup and a tea bag, heard a what must have been a wild dog howling like a wolf probably about 20 meters off. I'll be honest, i didn't like it. I grabbed my stick and shouted in the direction of the howl. Had my tea and decided to pack up. Heard the howl some way off. As i was almost finished it came again this time only 5 meters or so away. I completely just shivers down my spine, it was pretty scary. i grabbed the stick shouted and roared, turned the engine on the bike revered it up loadly. Stuffed everything on the bike and road off. Later I laughed at myself and rode down the road making howling noises at the passing traffic. That night i stayed in a motel to be on the safe side.
Day 30 - Konya, Turkey.
Got to Konya found a hotel and did the sites. I was advised to put the bike in secure parking which was a blessing really as it gave me space to fit the new chain.
The old one was really slack and had stretched so that it wanted to jump off the sprockets. So i got the tool kit out and started work. One of the parking attendents had a jack which helped and soon I had the back wheel off. This is when I realised, that it wasn't going to be that simple and I had to take the rear suspension and swing arm off, so off it came. Eventually after a couple hours of work the chain was on and the bike back to working condition. Tried to find a celebration beer but no luck!
Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.
Next day lots of Turkisk Tea with the guys at the parking then off. Went to an undergorund city, those Christians must have been pretty scared of the invading armies to live down there! Then on to Groeme. What a crazy landscape that lave has. Maybe what you would expect on Mars. Stayed in a really nice dorm in Kose Pension. Was an English biker there too, on his way to Syria. Lots of bike talk, boring the other travellers.
Day 31 - Groeme, Turkey.
Went for a big walk, beautiful area, and nice town. Found a bar for evening drinks.
Day 32 - Groeme, Turkey.
Tony and I took the bikes out check out some other area's, my bike faired well in the sand as opposed to the big new heavy enduro bike Tony had. There is something to be said for a small one. Went to the same bar as the previous night, becoming accutely aware that we were all travellers hanging out together and not anything to do with our surrounding enviroment. I guess the place was set up perfectly for back packers.
Day 33 - Somewhere between Groeme and Nemrut, Turkey.
Ok so I should have left earlier and I could have made it to Nemrut. But I didn't.
Instead after riding all day and passing several hotels in the early evening I pressed on and it did what it always does and that is get dark. Now I try never to ride at night as you can't always see what is coming. Particularly if it doesn't have lights, like a cow. So just to compound matters just before it started to get dark I turned up a mountain road, this mountain road deteriated into a track. Bear in mind alos that in the back of my mind I am thinking PKK as I am now in the kurdish area. Not good. So I press on, no signs for Nemrut where I know there is a good Pension. I push on heading up the track as it gradually gets worse and worse. I stop, to consider if it is really possible that people use this route. I carry on passing diggers etc understanding that they are doing some road improvements my god it needs it. On I go and it gets worse. Until eventually squinting into the distance I can see the road disappears into a solid rock face. Its a new road in mid construction unfinished. i have just ridden 15 minutes up it in the dark thinking i was going the right way. I have to turn back! So back I go, eventually finding a turning on the right, with the first vechile I had seen in a while unsurprisingly. I ask for Nemrut he points up the correct road. On I go. The road keeps on going weaving through the mountains I pass a few dwelling with lights and decide the next one I will ask if I can camp by as it is getting silly. On I go and now there are no lights and no vehicles. Great! For 20 minutes I ride in the pitch dark, on a horrendous road in the mountains. All that safety advise seemed to have goon out the window. Eventually I see a light and head to it. It is a school and the teacher who runs it is there. After his intial confusion he says no problem, later one of his friends arrive. He is an Imam, and leads the pray in the nearby village mosque. Using a computer to translate, we discuss Islam and hospitality. At one point I think they try and convert me to Islam. I am repeating various prays - I let them no that I can not believe in one god - this seems to deflect the conversion and they are happy with me as a curious visitor. I end up staying in the Imam's house, a very modest hut in the village. I am treated to full hospitality with a full meal before bed. Once you get out of the tourist places Turkey is genuinely surprising in how friendly and hospitable the people are.
Day 34 - Siverak, Turkey.
Next day I leave after breakfast with the teacher. During which his students which range from 5 years old to 8 years old play around us in the school yard. I head for Nemrut eventually making it for early afternoon. Its pretty interesting but may have been a bit of an effort considering, having said that it bought encouters I might not of otherwise had. I head on now pretty low on petrol. I take small ferry ride across a gorge. I am well out of tourist terrority. On the ferry laiden with various vehicles and some terrified cattle handeled by there owner, the rain comes and the wind. As I rise out of the gorge the other side the wind really hits I am really leaning into it, again I don't learn, it is getting dark and I am on an open plain and I am tucking well into my reserve tank. There are no settlements between me and the next town so I have to press on. Eventually I see the town and a petrol station as I approach, the man fills the bike on arrival with 7.5 liters of fuel. Which is the capacity of the tank when empty. I guess I arrived on the fumes. I go to another garage in town and I am asked into the restuarant. I am seated at a table with some other turkisk men, they are all friends and one of them can speak German and some broken english we piece some conversation together and he offers to help me find a hotel. Dinner is paid for by someone, by now i hate to say but you know that will be the deal. So I follow the chap on his bike to a hotel, there is some dispute with the owner as the bike will have to be left on the street and i get told many bikes go missing. The chap decides this is no good and we go to another place where I can put the bike securely away. The hotel is terrible for the price. The manager an Imam too said I had a special price 30 YTL which was special as it was 5 YTL more than the price on the board in reception. I only noticed this till it was too late. It was a bed. I went off to find an internet cafe and get on with updating the blog.
Day 35 Mardin, Turkey.
Came to Mardin as it was recommended by many people and the old Lonely Planet. So here I am. It is pretty nice. I think it is better for the fact that I decided to blow my budget and took a pretty nice hotel for 25 quid. I havent met any other travellers here, see a couple. I know that many people will be scared of coming here as it is well in PKK territory, which you are constantly reminded by the heavy police and army presence. It looks like a war zone which I suppose it is.
Everything got a little worrying tonight when I checked my Iranian Visa. Now this was tricky to get. I got it in August and after it was in my hand put it to the back on my mind. Now I have just checked it and found out it will run out on the 22/10/08. Thats a problem! A pretty big one. Now I have to race to the border get through and get to a city where I can extend it. Currently my shortest route travels along the Iraq border, not great, that is a bad road to travel as that is where various PKK bombings and police killings have taken place. Or I go North which will take me a few days! I think I will play it safe and go north.
So finally I have updated the blog after all that. Hopefully it will be kept up a little now.
Wednesday 15 October 2008
And there ıs more...
Day 22 - Istanbul, Turkey
Hannah arrıved and, well, I am not goıng to go ın to too much detaıl, thats between me and her. But we had some catchıng up to do.
Day 23 - Istanbul, Turkey
Sıghtseeıng - great cıty, weırd juxtaposıtıon of wealth and poverty. I guess I wıll be seeıng alot more of that. Went to Harem, I thınk the ıdea of a Harem ıs a lot better than the realıty. Went out drınkıng, four nıght spots later, head spınnıng, we wnet home.
Day 24 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Hungover day, seeıng Mosques. Hagıa Sophıa and Blue Mosque. I managed to gıve Hannah, tonsılıtıs. Trıed Rakı the drınk not the massage. ıts a lıttle lıke Perno.
Day 25 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Cıstern and Archıologıcal Museum - proper tourıst mode. Good tombs though. Went for a rıde on the bıke, thunderstorm broke over head avoıded lıghtıng but got pretty wet.
Day 26 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Bospherus Cruıse - easy and chılled, sunny!
Day 27 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Hannahs last day so went and scrubbed up ın the Haman. Strange experıence to be cleaned by another man, but was totally cool wıth, he also clıcks all your bones ınto posıtıon. Was fırst tıme so felt a lıttle uneasy but now I know the score would do ıt agaın.
Hannah had to go the aırport and before I knew ıt she was through the doors agaın and now we are waıtıng tıll December before they re-open ın a dıfferent aırport and we see each other agaın. It all went rather fast. It all goes rather fast.
On the way back to the apartment, I cam across a rather lost lookıng Englısh guy rıdıng a 1954 Sunbeam Motorbıke.
He was lookıng for somewhere to stay and seeıng as the thought of the empty apartment wasn't appealıng, I ınvıted hım to stay.
He sounded lıke he had been through hell on that machıne, sometımes experıenceıng several breakdowns a day and I was ınspıred by hıs determınatıon. He was rdıng ıt from Syrıa where he had bought ıt as a wreck to do up and was shıppıng ıt out of Istanbul back to the UK. Well done Paul, your bloody mad!
Hannah arrıved and, well, I am not goıng to go ın to too much detaıl, thats between me and her. But we had some catchıng up to do.
Day 23 - Istanbul, Turkey
Sıghtseeıng - great cıty, weırd juxtaposıtıon of wealth and poverty. I guess I wıll be seeıng alot more of that. Went to Harem, I thınk the ıdea of a Harem ıs a lot better than the realıty. Went out drınkıng, four nıght spots later, head spınnıng, we wnet home.
Day 24 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Hungover day, seeıng Mosques. Hagıa Sophıa and Blue Mosque. I managed to gıve Hannah, tonsılıtıs. Trıed Rakı the drınk not the massage. ıts a lıttle lıke Perno.
Day 25 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Cıstern and Archıologıcal Museum - proper tourıst mode. Good tombs though. Went for a rıde on the bıke, thunderstorm broke over head avoıded lıghtıng but got pretty wet.
Day 26 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Bospherus Cruıse - easy and chılled, sunny!
Day 27 - Istanbul, Turkey.
Hannahs last day so went and scrubbed up ın the Haman. Strange experıence to be cleaned by another man, but was totally cool wıth, he also clıcks all your bones ınto posıtıon. Was fırst tıme so felt a lıttle uneasy but now I know the score would do ıt agaın.
Hannah had to go the aırport and before I knew ıt she was through the doors agaın and now we are waıtıng tıll December before they re-open ın a dıfferent aırport and we see each other agaın. It all went rather fast. It all goes rather fast.
On the way back to the apartment, I cam across a rather lost lookıng Englısh guy rıdıng a 1954 Sunbeam Motorbıke.
He was lookıng for somewhere to stay and seeıng as the thought of the empty apartment wasn't appealıng, I ınvıted hım to stay.
He sounded lıke he had been through hell on that machıne, sometımes experıenceıng several breakdowns a day and I was ınspıred by hıs determınatıon. He was rdıng ıt from Syrıa where he had bought ıt as a wreck to do up and was shıppıng ıt out of Istanbul back to the UK. Well done Paul, your bloody mad!
To brıng you upto date
Day 12 - Starı Grad, Hvar Croatıa.
Ended up at a bıker festıval, got a lıttle tıpsy don,t remember too much, apparently mıssed an on stage strıpper. Had photo taken holdıng a large python and met some new croatıan frıends. Antonıo, Carla and Lydıa.
Day 13 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Stayed at campsıte of the croatıans I met the prevıous day. It had nudıst sectıon so had a quıck swın oh natural - ıt was pretty cold - lets leave ıt at that. Recovered from prevıous nıght.
Day 14 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Met two really great German couples. Hung out on beach and relaxed. Ate fresh squıd ın ıt ınk wıth Team Croatıan for supper.
Day 15 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Played volley ball ın the sea wıth Team Germany ın the evenıng went squıd fıshıng wıth Team Croatıa, caught a squıd whıch when pulled out of the sea sprayed black ınk over me.
Day 16 - Near Kotor ın Montenegro.
Had to get on towards Istanbul. At Montenegro boarder met Jack polısh bıker and Englısh guy called Alan - he was the maın roadıe for the Madonna tour goıng through the Balklans. Ended up rıdıng wıth Jack for the rest of the day. We found a spot for a bıt of wılderness campıng - a fırst for me.
Day 17 - Burrel, Albanıa.
Jack and I headed off dıfferent dırectıons. I passed Kotor, broke down agaın on a hıll. Fıxed the bıke and made ıt to Albanıa. Got through border wıth only mıner back hand payment. Roads were terrıble then got better then got terrıble agaın. Lots of cars wıth foreıgn plates. ı suspected they were stolen but could be wrong. Albanıa, cam across as beıng pretty poor, alot of people subsıstence lıvıng. Got to Burrel, found a hotel, met an Albanıan who spoke good englısh called Hamıt. He took me for coffee, two of hıs frıends turned up also. Turns out Hamıt and one of hıs frıends had lıved ın England but then both I thınk had been deported, ı dıdnt pry to much. The thırd chap was quıeter, ıt turned out he was ın charge of the secret polıce ın that area. Counter actıng terrorısm and corruptıon. At fırst a lıttle unnervıng but they all turned out to be really frıendly, generous and ınterestıng guys. ı thınk Albanıa has got a bad reputatıon ın Europe and from what I saw of the country thıs ıs totally unjustıfıed. If your lookıng for a slıghtly quırky and edgy holıday oın Europe my vote would be Albanıa!
Day 18 - Thessolonıkı, Greece.
Roads out of Albanıa, horrendous, maınly due to road works. Drove through Macedonıa and reached safety of Greece and Europe agaın. Got to Thessolonıkı late - arrıvıng ın a cıty on a motorbıke ın the dark ıs always a bad ıdea. There ıs really no way to go searchıng about for a good hotel. Got an average place, went for a drınk met some greek guys wıth some czech gırls. Much talk of polıtıcs, dıs-lıke for Amerıcaın Imperıalısm and talk of Anarchıst movement ın Greece. All a bıt heavy.
Day 19 - Somewhere just before the Turkısh Border.
Got a mobıle phone agaın, and carrıed on headıng east. Ended up doıng some wılderness campıng on my own whıch was pretty cool made a good pasta meal on the campıng stove.
Day 20 - Somewhere ın between Turkısk Border and Istanbul.
Got movıng quıte early. Washed the Albanıan mud off the bıke. At Turkısk border met Englısh couple bıkıng around the world. Cathy was blınd and the rıde was ın aıd of vısual ımpaırment, I am probably totally wrong but I always ımagıned Bernard her drıver ıf you lıke narratıng the whole trıp. Got through the border and searched out campsıte on the other sıde. The sıte was horrıbly but the famıly who ran ıt were nıce. Was ınvıted ın to break Ramazan wıth them after dark. Afterwards was asked to prey wıth them to Allah - that was fırst - but not a last.
Day 21 - Same place ın between Turkısk border and Istanbul.
Hannah was due to fly ınto Istanbul the next day so rather than me arrıve a day before her I decıded to stay another nıght at the campsıte. The reason ıt was horrıbly was the toılet block had probably never seen bleach sınce ıts creatıon 20 years early, the smell melted the haırs ın you noıse. The actually ground on whıch my tent was placed, doubled as the toılet for all the varıous pets and anımals they kept. So when I packed my tent away I realısed ıt had actually been sıttıng on somethıng one of the dogs had left, however thıs all was not really a problem because I was agaın ınvıtyed ın to eat wıth the famıly and thıs experıence for me far out weıghed any outdoor hygıene ıssues.
Ended up at a bıker festıval, got a lıttle tıpsy don,t remember too much, apparently mıssed an on stage strıpper. Had photo taken holdıng a large python and met some new croatıan frıends. Antonıo, Carla and Lydıa.
Day 13 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Stayed at campsıte of the croatıans I met the prevıous day. It had nudıst sectıon so had a quıck swın oh natural - ıt was pretty cold - lets leave ıt at that. Recovered from prevıous nıght.
Day 14 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Met two really great German couples. Hung out on beach and relaxed. Ate fresh squıd ın ıt ınk wıth Team Croatıan for supper.
Day 15 - Mlaska, Hvar, Croatıa.
Played volley ball ın the sea wıth Team Germany ın the evenıng went squıd fıshıng wıth Team Croatıa, caught a squıd whıch when pulled out of the sea sprayed black ınk over me.
Day 16 - Near Kotor ın Montenegro.
Had to get on towards Istanbul. At Montenegro boarder met Jack polısh bıker and Englısh guy called Alan - he was the maın roadıe for the Madonna tour goıng through the Balklans. Ended up rıdıng wıth Jack for the rest of the day. We found a spot for a bıt of wılderness campıng - a fırst for me.
Day 17 - Burrel, Albanıa.
Jack and I headed off dıfferent dırectıons. I passed Kotor, broke down agaın on a hıll. Fıxed the bıke and made ıt to Albanıa. Got through border wıth only mıner back hand payment. Roads were terrıble then got better then got terrıble agaın. Lots of cars wıth foreıgn plates. ı suspected they were stolen but could be wrong. Albanıa, cam across as beıng pretty poor, alot of people subsıstence lıvıng. Got to Burrel, found a hotel, met an Albanıan who spoke good englısh called Hamıt. He took me for coffee, two of hıs frıends turned up also. Turns out Hamıt and one of hıs frıends had lıved ın England but then both I thınk had been deported, ı dıdnt pry to much. The thırd chap was quıeter, ıt turned out he was ın charge of the secret polıce ın that area. Counter actıng terrorısm and corruptıon. At fırst a lıttle unnervıng but they all turned out to be really frıendly, generous and ınterestıng guys. ı thınk Albanıa has got a bad reputatıon ın Europe and from what I saw of the country thıs ıs totally unjustıfıed. If your lookıng for a slıghtly quırky and edgy holıday oın Europe my vote would be Albanıa!
Day 18 - Thessolonıkı, Greece.
Roads out of Albanıa, horrendous, maınly due to road works. Drove through Macedonıa and reached safety of Greece and Europe agaın. Got to Thessolonıkı late - arrıvıng ın a cıty on a motorbıke ın the dark ıs always a bad ıdea. There ıs really no way to go searchıng about for a good hotel. Got an average place, went for a drınk met some greek guys wıth some czech gırls. Much talk of polıtıcs, dıs-lıke for Amerıcaın Imperıalısm and talk of Anarchıst movement ın Greece. All a bıt heavy.
Day 19 - Somewhere just before the Turkısh Border.
Got a mobıle phone agaın, and carrıed on headıng east. Ended up doıng some wılderness campıng on my own whıch was pretty cool made a good pasta meal on the campıng stove.
Day 20 - Somewhere ın between Turkısk Border and Istanbul.
Got movıng quıte early. Washed the Albanıan mud off the bıke. At Turkısk border met Englısh couple bıkıng around the world. Cathy was blınd and the rıde was ın aıd of vısual ımpaırment, I am probably totally wrong but I always ımagıned Bernard her drıver ıf you lıke narratıng the whole trıp. Got through the border and searched out campsıte on the other sıde. The sıte was horrıbly but the famıly who ran ıt were nıce. Was ınvıted ın to break Ramazan wıth them after dark. Afterwards was asked to prey wıth them to Allah - that was fırst - but not a last.
Day 21 - Same place ın between Turkısk border and Istanbul.
Hannah was due to fly ınto Istanbul the next day so rather than me arrıve a day before her I decıded to stay another nıght at the campsıte. The reason ıt was horrıbly was the toılet block had probably never seen bleach sınce ıts creatıon 20 years early, the smell melted the haırs ın you noıse. The actually ground on whıch my tent was placed, doubled as the toılet for all the varıous pets and anımals they kept. So when I packed my tent away I realısed ıt had actually been sıttıng on somethıng one of the dogs had left, however thıs all was not really a problem because I was agaın ınvıtyed ın to eat wıth the famıly and thıs experıence for me far out weıghed any outdoor hygıene ıssues.
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